You’ve had chance after chance to do the right thing in many circumstances, but the powers that be in your organization and teams continue to make choices that oppress people who are not hyper-masculine, straight white male.

Let’s begin with race.

It’s seems as though you are using bodies for your own profit. And often, it’s the bodies of black males. You use them for your own entertainment, like in the days of the gladiators in the arenas. (How many have had repeated concussions and now have chronic traumatic encephalopathy?) Yet when they have an opinion that diverts from your owners or viewers, then they magically do not get their contracts renewed. Funny – their talent is greater than many players out there, but they aren’t playing. Colin Kaepernick is a good-hearted soul that wants justice in our world. He spends his resources building up other people. And yet he’s the one who has been unofficially banned from playing for using his agency to make the world aware of police brutality.

Secondly, you also forget the women.

There’s the issue of the cheerleaders who get paid less than minimum wage and must spend their own resources to keep their looks in top shape. (Two articles to read are here and here. Additionally, I wrote a piece on this blog here.)

And football player-related arrests tend to be related to domestic violence and sexual assault. The most frustrating thing about the response by the NFL is the minimal punishment (two to four game suspension like in the 2014 case of Ray Rice). A player committing violence against his partner is only ousted for a couple of games; a player peacefully protesting police brutality gets ousted indefinitely.

Furthermore, when riches and partiers gather at a Super Bowl city, trafficking tends to increase. Women and children are sold for a price for their bodies. The cities do what they can to watch for signs of traffickers and victims; yet according to this 2017 article, the NFL is in denial that such events take place at their precious event each year.

And you’ve managed to brush aside openly gay football players.

Again we fall upon widespread hyper-masculinity when seeing that there has never been an openly gay active NFL player, and few have come out after retiring. Michael Sam was drafted far into the draft and was eventually released – never mind his stellar NCAA record.

I’m sure that if you haven’t cared much about the other three groups, you’ve tried to ignore how you’ve played the intersections of race and gender. And with this I’m talking about Janet. (And since you are nasty, it’s Ms. Jackson to you, NFL.) Two people were part of the act. Ms. Jackson was publicly shamed and has been snubbed for many years. Her partner in the 2014 act will be leading the halftime show. She’s an African-American female. He’s a white male. There’s a pattern developing here…

And lastly, let’s think about wealth and your system, NFL. When I go on Instagram, I will see a host of celebrities with their photos at the game. I will also see a host of your friends taking selfies at their homes in front of the chicken wings. It’s because the cost of a ticket is almost $3,000. And the tickets went up 31% compared to last year. All games can be expensive, but when the tickets are this expensive, a person would have to work 413 hours at minimum wage to buy a ticket.

It would be nice if a certain percentage of tickets would go at a fair price to the average American consumer. But from my experience working at the Super Bowl hospitality village immediately before the 2001 game in Tampa, I saw how many corporate partners get tickets for the game, and how many get fed and provided libations in their own little tents inside the village right before the game.

NFL, you’ve managed to marginalize people of color, women, the LGBT community and working-class people. So as you see it’s you, not me. I avoided the entirety of your game and halftime show. I wrote and watched a movie on television. I still ate guacamole and chips, but instead of watching men of color used for their bodies and women on the sidelines objectified for a small fee, I chose to watch Kylie Jenner’s baby video instead.

About a month ago, in the midst of my horrific pain, I wrote most of this blog post.

Today, bits of the pain still linger, but I feel much better already. Yet reading this which I wrote when I felt so much less hopeless makes me realize how far I’ve come and reminds me of my persistence and resilience.

And so, on this International Women’s Day, I share with you.

At this point of my life, I needed to hear he word “persist” over and over and over again.

Thanks to the resilience of U.S. Senator Elizabeth Warren, words written by Corretta Scott King were brought alive again in order to protect our Union.

Of course, like most women even in the twenty-first century, we are shushed, told our opinion does not matter, or ignored altogether.

I try to acknowledge this over and over. But sometimes, I’m not privileged. Sometimes, I’m muddling through life with a belly full of ache and a energy system that is zapped. My skin color is privileged, but my insides ache and hold me back.

Once again, I’m struggling with endometriosis.

I’ve learned well how to push through the pain to achieve what I need to. But sometimes it’s just not enough to barely make it through to survive. I work, but I’m not fully living.

When I read all of the sexism and misogyny that’s happening in our country and world, and I see what friends have and do experience, it’s time to claim that we deserve more than the crumbs under the table. We deserve to have health and food and equality. We deserve for our voices to be heard.

And at a time when my pelvis aches and my aggravation increases daily with the dismissal and silencing of women, hearing the word “persistence” and the stories to go along with the word is refreshing.

We need to hear the stories of our sisters who worked for suffrage. We need not only to listen to the stories of our sisters of color, transgender sisters, and lesbian sister, but acknowledge the additional hurdles they have overcome. We need to tell each other our tales and not dismiss what another woman says because we haven’t experienced the same.

I needed the tenacity of Elizabeth Warren today. I need the enduring words of Corretta Scott King. I need to see Malala Yousafzai rising from her injuries and advocating for women all over the world. I still need to see the presence of Hillary in public and private because- even after all of the criticisms and losses, she still continues on. I need the stories of the women in Scripture who persisted: the Syrophoenician woman, the woman with the hemorrhage, Tamar, Vashti, Esther, and more. And I need to hear the stories of my endosisters who continue on one procedure to the next but never giving up.

The more we see women pushing and pushing beyond the boundaries of “no” and “maybe later” to “yes” and rising from the ashes of pain and failure and sexism, the faster we will heal in body, mind, and soul.

Ever since starting the Single in the Sanctuary group on Facebook as well as lead a couple of speaking engagements, I’ve had people share their stories with me. It’s been an amazing experience to learn about the roads our friends have been on over the course of their lives.

After hearing many stories, I see that there are some overlaps to many of our stories. We share similar sentiments of loneliness. Often, we wrestle when hope is lost.

But while a few of our stories are alike in many ways, each of our stories of being unmarried has distinct differences just like our DNA and fingerprints. Because of these vast differences, we can’t speak for someone else. Again, I was reminded of this – especially in light of the shooting at the Pulse Night Club in Orlando as well as what safety and sanctuary mean to LGBTQ people.

I can only speak for myself: an educated, straight white never-been-married cis-female. Granted, I’ve gone through some tough times being single throughout my twenties and thirties. Just by being a woman, there have been times when I’ve felt extremely unsafe. But my issues have minimal intersectionality issues, and I am extremely privileged. I’ve never faced what it means to be a person who is queer. I’ve never experienced what it means to be a single woman of color. Being a progressive Christian, I’ve also never experienced what a Jewish or Muslim woman has experienced.

As I reflect, some questions have come to mind: How would a person of color experience never being married? What would it be like to be a person of another faith who is getting divorced? How many more layers of difficulty in dating exist for a transgender person? How do lesbian, gay and bisexual people navigate the healing process for abusive relationships?

Of course, no one is required to tell us their stories unless they are ready to talk and they feel safe speaking with us. But what we as people of privilege within the unmarried spectrum need to understand is that there are friends who must deal with many additional layers of challenges.

All that any of us as people of privilege can do is allow space for all unmarried open-minded Christians to speak without interruption or trying to explain their experience for them, especially those whose stories are vastly different than ours. And my job, in return, is to learn as much as possible from them when they are ready to share.

I will continue to tell my story. But it is only one story in the sea of many. My experience is only my experience, and it is one that is fairly privileged. May the God in whose image we are all made give us the courage, strength and power to tell our stories and the patience to listen to the narratives of others.